


Nor the Tears from Thine Eye

by Amatara



Category: Twin Peaks
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dreams, Gen, Missing Scene, Post-episode: s03e16 No Knock No Doorbell, Reunions, Season/Series 03, Twin Peaks The Return
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-03
Updated: 2017-09-03
Packaged: 2018-12-23 09:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11986632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amatara/pseuds/Amatara
Summary: Albert dreams of reunions, forgiveness, and Dale Cooper.





	Nor the Tears from Thine Eye

**Author's Note:**

> One last hour of stream-of-consciousness writing just before the finale; this is what I ended up with.  
> And now we wait… and hope.

*

They fly for Spokane at dawn. The sky is heavy and overcast, sleet pounding the windows during liftoff, and then they’re in the air and above the clouds and Albert, dazed with grief and lack of sleep, blinks into the rising sun and wonders if his heart will burst or break today.

Cooper is back. Cooper needs them in Twin Peaks. That’s all they know, and Albert wants to have hope but he can’t see what good it would do them. They checked out of the hotel with one less person than they brought in, everything feeling bleak and pointless and broken, and if it wasn’t for Tammy standing at his shoulder he might have screamed when the receptionist took Diane’s room key from his hand.

Tammy is here now, curled into the seat next to him, trying to nap or pretending to. He’s grateful for the way she’s been hovering around him, the way she insists on keeping it up even as he struggles to feign indifference. Gordon is sleeping across the aisle, ramrod-straight with his hands on the armrests, and Albert would be surprised at the display of fragility except he knows Gordon only sleeps when he wants to. Like Albert, he’s barely slept in days and they’re going to need all their strength now. For Cooper’s sake.

He didn’t mean to let himself nod off, and when he opens his eyes to pitch darkness, it takes him a moment to realize he’s not on the plane. Tammy’s gentle exhales are gone, replaced by slower, heavier breathing, and the air is very cool and very still. 

A light comes on, illuminating a figure with its back towards him. Black suit and ditto shoes, black hair and slender hips and…

Oh, God. _Coop._

He whispers it like a prayer, even though he hasn’t prayed in decades. Not to a god, anyway, though one might wonder if the last twenty-five years of his life hadn’t been some kind of prayer to a man. This man.

“Albert,” Cooper says, but doesn’t turn around. There’s the faintest of smiles in his voice; Albert can tell, although he doesn’t understand why. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m glad we can talk before the end.”

“The end?” Albert blinks, tries to wrap his head around the finality of the word. “How does it end, Coop? I thought I knew. I thought this would end once we found you, but now… We’ve lost so much that I don’t even know if there’s anything left.”

Cooper nods slowly, and his head turns as if to glance across his shoulder, then stops. “You must hold on a little while longer, Albert. I know it hurts, but it will be over soon. I promise things will be easier after.”

“Easier how? Diane is dead.” His voice cracks as he tries to muster some last dregs of anger, and it’s all he can do not to crumple like a rag at Cooper’s heels. Cooper, or whoever this is. At some level, Albert is still aware he's dreaming, which must be why he's letting himself have this conversation like he's talking to Cooper for real. “Or maybe she died years ago, but… I pulled the trigger on whatever was still there.”

“I know,” Cooper says, and he sounds wistful, but not accusatory. “You did your best, Albert. And death is not the end.”

“I know what death is,” he chokes - but does he? Diane is gone, and there’s not even a body for him to cut open, no way to go through the motions and soak his hands in her blood and persuade himself she’s really gone. Just like there wasn’t when Cooper disappeared.

“You know what death looks like to the living,” Cooper corrects, still in that same, impossibly gentle tone. “And whatever happens next, I would very much like you to continue to be among them.”

Albert swallows, hard. “What if _I_ don’t want to?” He’s unbearably tired, and he’s done enough damage for several lifetimes, even if he did do his best. “What if I don’t deserve to be?”

“You deserve it,” Cooper says. “I know you can’t see it right now, Albert, but your spirit is still whole, and I forgive you.”

He does break, then, but it’s not nearly as bad as he thought; his arms are shaking and tears stream down his face, and it’s almost a relief to let them out. “Who are you?” he breathes, his gaze still fixed on Cooper’s back. “Who are you that you can forgive me?”

“Someone who can forgive himself,” Cooper says, and lowers his head, and starts to turn towards him. And it’s only then that Albert sees - the light he thought was shining on Coop isn’t coming from outside him. Coop _is_ the light, a rainbow of color spilling from his face and chest, flowing and shimmering but not blinding him at all, and the eyes are just as he remembers.

Albert takes a step, and another one, and his arms close around warm shoulders, and there is only light.

*

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you, David, Mark and Kyle (and everyone else of the cast and crew) for the amazing and heartbreaking ride. 
> 
> In loving memory of Miguel Ferrer.


End file.
